


Salvage

by Ann7121



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22316920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann7121/pseuds/Ann7121
Summary: There is something Avon must do to lay Cally’s ghost to rest.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Salvage

It reminded Vila of Zondar. No night, thanks to its twin stars. It must be hot as lava when they blazed at their highest but it was cooler now they had sunk towards the horizon. Bearable but still too warm for his taste, especially with the scorching breaths of wind that ruffled the sand and coated his face with grit. Avon of course was hardly sweating. Cold blooded: that was Vila's guess - like a lizard needing warmth to awaken his system. And of course he wasn't lugging Orac. No, that privilege belonged to Vila.

Why were they here? Avon had ordered Vila to accompany him on what he'd told the others was a shopping trip for a component for the base’s ventilation system. He had then diverted Scorpio to this benighted place, ignoring all questions, and instructed Slave to maintain orbit while he and Vila transported down. He had carried Orac with him, but soon handed the burden to Vila while he scouted around, gun raised theatrically, jacket flaring in the wind, for all the world as if he was starring in some dramatic scenario of his own devising... which in a sense he was. 

Reluctantly, Vila trudged behind him. There seemed nothing here to warrant attention but it would do no good to challenge Avon. Since Terminal, Avon had changed. Losing the Liberator and perhaps losing Cally, had scoured away the rationality that had characterised him, even at his worst, revealing something implacable, a bedrock of anger and suspicion as impenetrable as the rocky ground they were traversing - and about as comforting.

Ahead, Avon stopped as if listening for something, then imperiously raised his arm, summoning Vila forward. He gestured again, this time indicating Vila should place Orac on a flattish rock, then he inserted its key and appeared to address the sky. "Well?" he demanded.

Orac whirred into life.

“Well is not a logical question. If you require information, kindly frame your request...”

"Orac," Avon cut in dangerously. "Have you found it?"

“Yes.” Orac terminated his response with an irritated whine.

"And?"

“If you are referring to the presence of the colony, it is precisely 4.3 meters to your right behind that overhang of rock.”

"Thank you." Avon removed the key again and then moved back in the direction Orac had indicated. 

Intrigued, Vila followed at a safe distance. As he approached the rocky overhang, a faint noise began to fill his mind, like a thousand voices scuffling and whispering together. It was almost familiar, but it wasn't until Avon reached into his pocket and pulled out the little flat disc that he recognised it as the sounds of a colony of Moon Discs. 

Daring Vila to comment, Avon bent and gently placed the creature on the ground. It paused for a moment, almost as if hesitating and then shuffled quickly to join the other Discs basking together in the starlight.

Avon watched it, an indecipherable expression on his face. Then he turned and moved into an area away from the rocks and touched his bracelet.

"Bring Orac," he ordered and, as Vila struggled to join him, " Slave, transport us now." 

The sparkles of their outlines hung in the air for a moment after they had departed until a gust of wind scattered them, obliterating all traces of their presence. Only the Moon Disc remembered that they had been there. And was grateful.

***

Back in the rec room, Avon put his feet up on the table and lay back against the couch, cradling his glass. It had been a tiring journey- he was reluctant to admit that it had also been an emotional one, but he was too honest to deny privately that finding a home for Cally's Moon Disc had been wholly motivated by sentiment. 

There had been logical alternatives. Caring for the creature would have involved a little effort, but Dayna would have been happy to take on that responsibility. And if having it around had brought back too many unpleasant memories - Cally's body, bloody and crushed; the creature sitting on her temple as if trying to communicate with her - he could always have destroyed it and removed their trigger.

Except, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do either. He had been afraid that, deprived of its telepathic companion, it would sicken, even die, not something he had wanted to risk. And destroying it would have been like killing the last bit of Cally. He had had to salvage something, and that meant finding the creature a home.

The comfort he felt after relocating it had been unanticipated; as if by doing so, Cally's spirit, her indomitable spirit, lived on in some way. He recalled how she had first taken to keeping the Moon Disc about her person after the destruction of Auron. She said that its telepathic vibrations brought her some peace, soothing the violent storms of grief that threatened to overwhelm her. Following her possession by the Alien, she had carried it more often: for protection she said. She felt it strengthened her ability to resist absorption. He had been startled but not surprised to find it on her dead body. What had amazed him was that he had felt its vibrations tickling his mind, and he had shared it's bewilderment and pain at finding itself suddenly alone. Without thinking, he had picked it up and even spoken to it soothingly - there, there, you're not alone now - something idiotic like that: he felt his colour rise as he recalled the moment. 

Well that was over now. He could put it behind him. Cally was dead - as they all would be one day: probably sooner rather than later. Life, such as it was, went on. Yet he couldn't quite repress a sense of optimism. The Moon Disc colony would continue to flourish far from Federation interference. Maybe, if he could recruit sufficient experts to help him with the task, he might also succeed in freeing others from its oppressive rule and his future hold something more hopeful than the drive for revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to an art prompt on the Horizon website by the very talented Raine Szramski.


End file.
